


At Close of Day

by die_traumerei



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Love, Other, look i just really love the english landscape ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley enjoy a sunset together, and talk about love.





	At Close of Day

**Author's Note:**

> I put this up on Tumblr awhile ago, but it doesn't seem to be crying out for more edits, so makes sense to pop it up here!

“Oh, isn't it glorious?” Aziraphale sighed happily, watching the sun set low, the way it made everything it touched yellow-gold in the slow autumn light. He shifted and settled back against the apple tree they had spread their picnic under, and turned to Crowley.

“Yeah,” Crowley said gently. “It's beautiful.”

“Even with these?” Aziraphale asked, touching the side of Crowley's dark glasses.

Crowley smiled. “I know what the golden hour looks like, angel. As two different species, even.”

Aziraphale softened a little. “Oh, you're so lucky. But truly, no one's around. And it's so beautiful tonight.”

“Well. I s'pose. You have to calm them down if someone sees me and loses it,” Crowley warned.

“Happily,” Aziraphale said. “There, see? It's something special tonight.”

Crowley made a meh face, and Aziraphale laughed.

“Come here, then,” Crowley said, and with a few light touches he'd got Aziraphale to lie between his legs, snuggled back onto Crowley's chest, the both of them against the tree now. Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale's shoulder, and tried to see what he did.

It was pretty enough, of course. Aziraphale had an eye for aesthetic, and it was certainly that. The rolling hills were mostly bathed in the dark gold light of the setting sun, with blue shadows long here and there. Some trees were cut in half by the light and shadow; a blazing golden crown, lower branches and trunk of velvet blue. Crowley liked those the best; the mix of light and dark. He liked seeing them in the land.

Aziraphale had taken one of his hands and laced their fingers together, rested their twinned hands on his chest, and Crowley could just feel his heartbeat. He could feel the hard metal of Aziraphale's ring against his finger. A tiny spark of something divine; it was his halo, and Crowley loved that he could touch it and not be burned.

Aziraphale took the love he felt and wrapped it around him, better than any cloak or coat or blanket. Crowley _emanated_ love, in a way that took Aziraphale's breath away. Far more than any angel ever had – at least towards him. He had always thought that only humans could create these waves of love, so intense they were nearly painful, so comforting you never minded the pain. He'd thought that such powerful feelings weren't for ethereal creatures; certainly not for occult ones. Even God's love didn't feel like this; oh, it was overpowering. It was holy. It gave Aziraphale strength, and hope, and all of the things God's love should do. But it wasn't...it wasn't _cthonic_, Aziraphale finally decided. It wasn't tied down to a place, it was wild and airy, and he wasn't any of those things. He loved his home, he loved England, he was dull and bookish and loved the material things of the world.

And Crowley's love was all of that. It was steady and grounded. It pulled Aziraphale out of his head, gave him a place in the world that was all his. Gave him a  _person_ who was all his, just as he was fully Crowley's. It was a great tree reaching deep into the earth, branches mirroring roots, and Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment to revel in it all. Cool shadow on his face, Crowley's strong body holding him, taking his weight like it was nothing, and so much  _love_ . People loved this land, these rolling hills, and he could feel it. And bigger than all of that, more tender and personal and complicated, for they were both complicated beings, he let Crowley's love pour in through his senses.

“Are you opening yourself up to the universe too much again?” Crowley murmured in his ear, and Aziraphale realized he was weeping, just a few tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Oops,” he said.

“We've talked about this,” Crowley said, but he was warm and teasing and he retrieved Aziraphale's handkerchief himself, and dried his cheeks. “You always get maudlin.”

“Sorry,” Aziraphale said, not sorry even in the least. “Technically,” he added, “it's all your fault.”

“Oh no,” Crowley said. “Unfair.”

“T'isn't. You're the one walking around loving me all the time,” Aziraphale said. “Also, oh goodness.” He grinned. “We're not the first couple to...spend time under this apple tree.”

“Aziraphale, humans fuck _everywhere_.”

“Yes, but this place is special.” Aziraphale's smile grew. “We're lucky you can't impregnate me, let's just say. Whew, that's a lot of generations of babies.”

Crowley gave him a little pinch, then kissed his shoulder. “Going  _back_ to my point, still not my fault.”

“Why?” Aziraphale challenged. “Pretty much wholly your fault from where I'm sitting.” He turned his head to kiss Crowley's cheek, and make a point.

“One, because you're the one that made me fall in love with you, being all kind and giving your sword away and then being irresistible for the next six thousand years,” Crowley said. “One _hundred_ percent your fault, you should have tried being an ass like the rest of the Heavenly Host. I sure wouldn't have fallen in love with Gabriel, you know.”

“I didn't _intend_ that,” Aziraphale said testily. “I can't help who I am.”

Crowley rested his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder again, wishing a little that he'd discover the t-shirt, or even better the undershirt. Or no shirt, though that might get a little chilly, the evenings were drawing in and Aziraphale felt the cold far more than he let on, so perhaps not  _no_ shirt, because a chilly angel is a whiny thing to behold.

Crowley pulled his mind back on track. “ _Two_ ,” he said. “I'm innocent in this. Just sitting here loving you. Big proponent of loving you, me. Love to do it as much as possible, so to speak.  _You're_ the one that can sense it, nothing to do with me. You love me plenty and I can't feel it, and I don't start crying because everything is too wonderful and overwhelming because you love me more than.” He paused and cleared his throat. “It's all your fault, I'm trying to say.”

“You have definitely cried when I say I love you,” Aziraphale said, but his voice was gentle. He let Crowley's hand go, just for a moment, so he could turn and get his arms around his demon boy. “You're about to cry right now.”

“_About to_ isn't the same. No actual tears. Doesn't count.” Crowley smiled, and Aziraphale delighted in seeing his eyes under the sunlight, here in a field in front of everyone. Crowley exposed to the world, his dear face right there for kissing.

“I wish you could feel what I do,” Aziraphale murmured. “It doesn't seem fair. I love you so.”

“I feel a little of it,” Crowley comforted. “And I'm sure of it. I've doubted plenty in the past, but never now. I promise, angel.”

“See that you remember that,” Aziraphale said. “I have always loved you. I will always love you. I didn't always know that myself, so we have to remember extra now.”

Crowley just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. Touch helped, Aziraphale had learned; kisses and hugs, little caresses, a hand laid on his arm, or the small of his back, knocking their heads together a little as they read from the same book.

“Hah,” he said when he pulled away, and Crowley was distinctly teary-eyed. 

“Shut up and watch the sunset,” Crowley said. “There's a spare blanket in my bag, if you get chilly.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine,” Aziraphale said, settling back against Crowley, and letting the sensations well up again. Not enough to weep, even from joy, but so he could savour being Crowley's best beloved, in this beautiful place, while they watched the sun set on their corner of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Where they're sitting is, at least in my mind, a beautiful little spot in the Chilterns I sat and watched the sun set in some years ago, over the side of a hill and everything full summer and golden.


End file.
